


Two In Ten

by Anna_Hopkins



Series: October, 2020 [2]
Category: Among Us (Video Game), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Among Us fusion, Background Walden Macnair/Fenrir Greyback, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Crack, Death Eater Ensemble Cast, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mind Games, Not Canon Compliant, nobody actually dies though, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Hopkins/pseuds/Anna_Hopkins
Summary: There are impostors in Malfoy Manor.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: October, 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946074
Comments: 17
Kudos: 240





	Two In Ten

"Death Eaters." Voldemort scrutinized each of the Inner Circle in turn, his red gaze the only other color in the dim room. "I presume you have all felt the disturbance in the wards in the past ten minutes."

Some of the group nodded. Severus Snape was trying not to fall asleep at the table. Bellatrix Lestrange was batting her eyelashes in Voldemort's general direction, moreso than usual as he was dressed in a loosely-tied bathrobe instead of his usual clothing. Rabastan and Rodolphus were staring blearily at the rest of the room, looking quite rumpled in a way that Bella was not. Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco, seated closest to the Dark Lord, were all staring at him with varying degrees of their trademarked fearful awe. And at the far end of the table, Fenrir Greyback and Walden Macnair were quite obviously passing notes under the table like schoolboys.

"Two among us are not who they appear to be," the Dark Lord announced. "There are ways and ways of finding out just who they might be, but..." A smirk. "Let us make something fun of it. A game, if you will."

"A.. game, my lord?" Lucius asked, hesitant.

His gaze flicked to the blond. "Does this truly surprise you, Lucius? How...  _ suspicious." _

"My lord," Rabastan started, glaring at the Malfoy patriarch, "what are the terms of the game?"

"Will we be torturing the impostors?" Bella looked up brightly, making to rise from her seat. "Cutting off their fingers? A little Cruciatus?"

Rodolphus patted his wife on the arm, easing her back down.

"Simpler," Voldemort told her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I have set up an identifying ward around this room: anyone who falls asleep within these walls will have their name appear above them, and that will let us identify the spies."

Confusion flickered across several faces, faces Voldemort committed to memory for the time being. "You are wondering why I would make this unnecessarily complicated," he observed. "Why, you wonder, would I go to such lengths instead of dealing with the matter directly?" He huffed a laugh at Draco and Walden's wary nods. "Well. The idea was suggested to me when the wards were first disturbed, you see; a bit of entertainment will make up for the interruption of my more pressing business."

He ignored the question in his servants' eyes. "Things will proceed as follows. You may cast your vote as to the identity of the impostor, or vote to abstain, each round. After five minutes, or when everyone has voted, whosoever has the most votes will be Stunned and their identity revealed. We will continue until either the impostors are identified, or they are the only ones left."

"I vote Lucius," Bella leaped to say. Literally leaped - a house-elf snatched away her mug of coffee before it was spilled. (Why, the others wondered, had she even been given caffeine in the first place?) "You said so yourself, my Lord, he is a suspicious character!"

"At ease, Bella," Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Any seconds?"

"Bellatrix," said Rodolphus, earning a dramatic gasp from the witch. "She does not usually drink coffee this late at night. At worst, this will preclude the need for  _ more _ coffee."

Rabastan seconded.

"You never express concern for Bellatrix," Narcissa frowned, eyeing Rodolphus strangely, "and you two never agree on anything. My lord, I believe Rodolphus and Rabastan to be the impostors."

"You get one vote per round, Narcissa."

"Rodolphus, then."

Lucius glanced between Narcissa and the Lestranges. "I agree that it is suspicious, but I also vote for my sister-in-law before the house-elves bring coffee for the rest of us."

Walden and Fenrir had been rather quiet so far. "What do you think, gentlemen?" asked the Dark Lord.

"I abstain," growled Fenrir, and Walden nodded. (Voldemort was pretty sure they were holding hands under the table.)

"Which leaves.." Voldemort ran a quick mental tally. "Draco." He turned his gaze on the wide-eyed boy. "Cast your vote."

"Aunt Bella," Draco said immediately, "but only for the reasons suggested - wouldn't the impostors' aim be to eliminate the most vicious duellists first, to ease their own escape?"

"Clever," Voldemort supposed. "Hm. And I abstain. Bella, dear, do hold still."

The Stupefy knocked the increasingly rabid witch back into her chair, and the identifying ward gave a pleasant chime.

_ Bellatrix Lestrange, _ read the glowing letters above her unconscious form.

"It seems Bella was not the impostor," Narcissa murmured the obvious. "She did seem particularly over-acted, but... it must have been the coffee."

A pleased smile spread across Voldemort's face; Draco flinched a little to see it. "Let us keep things interesting... Fenrir! You have been suspiciously quiet. And passing love notes to Walden when you are meant to be participating in our game."

"Sorry, my lord," the werewolf had the decency to look abashed. "Moon's on its way in."

Ah, yes, that would explain it. Still-

"I vote Fenrir," Draco announced all of a sudden. "He usually looks at me like he wants to eat me when the moon is waxing and that hasn't happened yet."

"He  _ what," _ Lucius and Narcissa said at the same time, shared a look, and seconded their son's votes.

Rodolphus, meanwhile, rolled his eyes. "He only looks at everyone like that until Walden shows up. I  _ wonder _ why his boyfriend might have drawn his attention instead," he drawled, words dripping with sarcasm. "Just because you never socialize with the rest of us, Draco-"

"I vote for young Malfoy," Walden sniffed. He was now holding Fenrir's hand above the table, since they'd already been caught.

"Abstain," Rabastan shook his head, not explaining further.

"And you, Rodolphus?" Voldemort steepled his fingers.

"Lady Malfoy," the man replied. "She voted against me in the last round."

"Fenrir?"

"Abstain, my lord."

Of course. "It falls to me, then. And I..." the Dark Lord considered, consulting a conjured slip of parchment he was using to tally the votes. Who to vote for? He didn't want to give any hints for the next round. Abstaining this round would inspire a brief increase in loyalty from Rabastan, Walden, and Fenrir for the next.

But that would be boring. "I vote for Draco," Voldemort decided on a whim. "Which means-" he leveled his wand at Fenrir. "Votes are counted. Stupefy."

Fenrir Greyback was not an impostor.

It occurred to Voldemort that he had not included Severus Snape. "Severus," he gasped, feigning astonishment, "are you using a Notice-Me-Not?"

The man blinked slowly up at him from where he sat. Now that the spell had been pointed out, it was broken; everyone's attention snapped to Snape, scrutinizing his dead-eyed expression to no avail.

"That's suspicious," Walden decided, staring between Severus and Draco.

"That you decide as much so readily is a sign of your own weakness more than mine, Macnair," Severus sneered. "Are you lashing out now that you cannot play  _ footsie _ under the table?"

Draco covered his snort with a cough.

"He makes a good point, Walden," Voldemort teased. "Though I will abstain this round."

"I also vote for Severus," said Lucius, which raised eyebrows around the table. "You are never so careless as to forget what spells you have active - whether it is on purpose or not, you are  _ not yourself." _

"This is the third time you have gone with the trend, Lucius," Severus pointed out. "I rather think you are trying to deflect suspicion off of yourself.  _ That _ is the most suspicious thing here."

"Contentious," Voldemort hummed, amused. He glanced between the two men; even he could not be certain if one or both were compromised - the impostors, if they  _ were _ impostors, were playing the characters well.

Narcissa voted to abstain; she was never one to blindly follow her husband's will, which was part of why Voldemort had recruited her. Draco, however, would follow Lucius-

"He's right," the boy said with surprising firmness. "I suspect Father."

"Do you, Draco," Voldemort mused over Narcissa's gasp.

"I saw Father going to bed more than an hour ago, Mother," Draco went on, "But he is dressed as he was earlier, now. Father  _ never _ puts on the same clothes twice in a day."

"What- I had not yet disrobed for the night," Lucius protested.

"Deduction!" Rodolphus radiated approval. "I'll second my nephew on this. Well-spotted, Draco."

Rabastan looked bored, and voted to abstain.

"Goodness, a tie," Voldemort smirked. "Three abstains to three votes for Lucius - fortunately for us, and unfortunately for you, Lucius, abstention isn't its own category."

He pretended he wasn't as amused by the man's shocked expression as he was.

Lucius Malfoy was not an impostor.

"My lord, if I may," Walden spoke up, "that is twice in a row Rabastan has abstained. And he does not appear to be as tired as the rest of us."

"Suspicious little snipe," Rabastan growled in a fair impersonation of Walden's boyfriend himself. "You wanna say that to my face?"

"I did," sneered Walden, hand going to his wand, "unless you mean your  _ real _ face-"

"You can wake up Fenrir for a threesome later, boys," Narcissa cut in sharply, tone so disapproving that Voldemort barked out a laugh. "My lord," she continued, "I nominate Rabastan this round."

"Do they actually do that," Draco muttered under his breath, aghast.

(What a prude.)

The Dark Lord leaned back in his throne, spinning his wand in his hand. "Two votes for Rabastan so far. Would anyone else like to name names?"

"My lord knows Rabs and I have been dealing with Bella all evening, leaving no opportunity for him to be replaced by an impostor." Rodolphus side-eyed Walden, who glared back. "Macnair, however, only arrived an hour ago, and was fooling around with Greyback in a soundproofed room. If anything, it is he who has the highest chance of being replaced."

"Two and two," Voldemort informed the group once Rabastan seconded Rodolphus. "Severus? Your thoughts?"

"Greyback would have noticed if Macnair were an impostor, unless they both were - and we have already seen Greyback was not. Therefore, the Lestranges' stubborn insistence is more suspicious than anything else this round."

"Are you voting for Rabastan, then?"

"Indeed, my lord." Severus took a long sip of his coffee, ignoring the glares he was receiving.

"Isn't this interesting, Draco," the Dark Lord rested his chin in one hand, twirling his wand with the other. "It is down to the two of us to choose this round. You could vote for Walden, and bring things to a tie, which would leave it to me."

"Would you like me to?" Draco blinked. "-My lord," he added hastily, cheeks pinking.

Several pairs of eyes glanced at the boy for the slip.

"I have no opinion on the matter."

Draco looked between his uncle and his godfather. "..I abstain," he said eventually, as though the choice had been difficult.

"As do I," Voldemort grinned.

Rabastan Lestrange was not an impostor.

A brief interruption came in the form of the house-elves finally bringing refreshments; Voldemort Stunned one of them just for entertainment, earning terrified looks from the other one as it carried its fellow out.

"My lord, may I inquire," Severus began over a biscuit, "if you are also subject to a vote in tonight's game?"

Ah, Severus, ever feisty. "I suppose," Voldemort shrugged. "You all could use some assurance that  _ I _ am not the impostor, evidently. But you will be obliged to Reenervate me before Nagini gets feisty." He hissed something; a low hiss came in reply from under the table, reminding everyone of the serpent coiled there, just out of reach of anyone's feet.

They all flinched, Severus in particular - he was all too aware of the short supply of antivenin this month. "Certainly, my lord," he acquiesced, "one of us will do so the moment the ward activates."

"Good. Carry on, then."

But no one quite dared to call his bluff. The Dark Lord sipped his tea. "Well?" he demanded of the room when no further votes had been cast.

Draco sat up straighter, blinking out of a reverie. "I vote Mother," he said suddenly, with no explanation.

"Draco!"

"Seconded," said Rodolphus with a flicker of a sneer, dipping a biscuit into his tea. Ah, he had not forgotten his grudge.

"Narcissa, what say you in your defense?"

"My son is the one acting most out of character in this moment," the witch said stiffly, reaching for her teacup. "I cast my vote upon him."

"Mother!"

"You brought this upon yourself, Draco," Narcissa sent him a stern look, sipping.

"My lord, can we change votes once they are cast?" asked Rodolphus.

"Yes, actually," Voldemort said brightly. "I'm surprised no one has tried that so far."

"Then I change my vote to Draco."

"Hm. To abstain, or to vote?" Voldemort wondered, swirling the dregs of his tea. He peered into the tea leaves in search of inspiration: they were a clump of round mush at the bottom of the cup. "Severus, what did you choose, again?"

"I am abstaining this round, my Lord," Severus murmured.

"Walden?"

"Narcissa, my lord."

"Which leaves me as tie-breaker once again. Hmm..." He glanced between Narcissa and Draco, trying to gauge who was more nervous without using Legilimency as a crutch.  _ Eeny-meeny-miney-moe, catch a ser-pent by the toe- _

"My lord," Draco spoke up, "if we were all summoned here with the Dark Mark, would the impostors even be present?"

"An apt question, young Draco," Voldemort raised a hairless brow, impressed. "Stupefy."

In the interval between the spell striking and the wards activating, Voldemort informed the table that "only half of you were summoned with the Dark Mark; Draco was not among them."

And true to his words, the name that appeared over Draco's unconscious body was:

_ Draco Malfoy? _

"My lord, Draco has been using numbing cream for his Mark to defray suspicion during the school year." Severus waved a hand over his teacup to refill it. "I informed him we were being Summoned when my Mark burned."

"I told Fenrir, too," Walden spoke up.

"How interesting," Voldemort leaned back in his chair. "What now, hm?"

Narcissa had a strange expression on her face now. "Severus, you and Draco entered the room several minutes apart. If you were in the same room when the summons came.."

"Ooh," Rodolphus reached for a biscuit. "This is getting good."

"He could've been switched on the way in," Walden realized. "Fenrir and I were together, the Lestranges were together, but the Malfoys weren't - and we only have Snape's word that he was with Draco."

"I vote for Severus," Narcissa decided. "Have we simply forgotten the earlier Notice-Me-Not? Or that he did not hesitate to deflect to my husband when previously suspected?"

"You Narcissa, achieved the same when Draco named  _ you _ last round. And as we have already concluded Walden cannot be an impostor..." Severus gestured as if to say the conclusion were obvious.

"Damn, this is difficult," Rodolphus muttered. He glanced to Walden, who shrugged.

"Walden, your thoughts?" Voldemort called out.

"I'm.. not certain, my Lord," the man had a hand on his head, looking pained.

"When have you ever hesitated, Walden?" Severus rolled his eyes. "Cut the act. I change my vote to Macnair," he informed the Dark Lord.

Narcissa visibly relaxed - something noticed by everyone at the table. "Retracted," Severus said, just as Walden exclaimed, "Lady Malfoy!"

A flicker of a grin caught on Rodolphus' face. "That cinches it," he decided. "Severus Snape."

"Another tie," Voldemort snapped a biscuit in half. "Whatever will I do?"

The spell flew from his wand without a word.

Narcissa Malfoy was not an impostor.

"Oh, shite," Walden was looking between Rodolphus and Severus with wide eyes. "It has to be one of you-"

"Or does it?" Severus wondered, turning to the Dark Lord. "I cast my vote," he murmured, with an expression as though he knew something the rest of them didn't.

"No - I think it's Severus," Walden said. "How would our lord know he had summoned any of us unless it were him who'd done the summoning?"

Voldemort leaned back in his chair, smirking at Rodolphus. "What do you think,  _ Rudy?" _

"I-" The man swallowed, quailing under the Dark Lord's knowing look.

"Vote, Rodolphus," Severus snarled, "you coward! It's obvious!"

Lestrange's expression hardened. "It  _ is _ obvious," agreed, turning to look at the Dark Lord.

"I vote for Severus Snape."

Voldemort let out a cackle loud enough to ring in the room. "Stupefy," he laughed, the red light hitting Severus right in the nose. The Potions Master toppled out of his seat, knocking into Lucius' shoulder as he went down.

_ Severus Snape, _ read the white letters that formed.

"What-" said Rodolphus and Walden at the same time. They looked at each other. "But I'm not-"

Then, with equally horrified looks, they turned to their Lord, who was rising from his seat with a maniacal, toothy grin.

Before they could draw their wands, the door burst open, the interloper giving a triumphant shout.

"You!" the two Death Eaters shrieked, re-aiming at - Voldemort?

_ "What," _ Rodolphus gasped, looking between the two Dark Lords. "But-"

"Potter!" the Voldemort who'd burst in yelled, drawing a wand on the Voldemort in the throne.

"Or am I?" Throne-Voldemort laughed, leaping onto the tabletop. "How do you know for  _ sure?" _

"There's two impostors," Rodolphus shouted at Macnair, "they're  _ both-" _

He was cut off by a Stunner from Throne-Voldemort's wand.

_ Ron Weasley, _ said the words that arose from the body, outlined in vivid red.

"S-so then," Walden looked between the two Voldemorts, backing away from the table. "There has to be-"

"I lied," said Throne-Voldemort, "there was only one impostor."

Both Voldemorts were grinning, now. Macnair was gripping his hair with both hands, completely lost. "What," he croaked, "that's impossible-"

"There was only one impostor crossing the wards tonight," Throne-Voldemort announced, voice quaking with a repressed giggle. "I've been here all week. Haven't I?" He walked down the long table, and as Walden watched, he grew shorter and shorter, until the bathrobe was hanging loose off narrow shoulders-

"Cover yourself, Harry," Voldemort said fondly, tossing a spare cloak around the shoulders of one Harry Potter, whose hair was slowly growing out from his head. "Can't have  _ Walden _ getting an eyeful."

Potter leaned into the Dark Lord's embrace, grinning. "Did you have fun watching the game?"

"Not as much," Voldemort murmured, sweeping Potter up in a bridal carry, "as I was having before your pet Weasley got into the Manor looking for you."

"It was pretty fun though," Potter yawned into the Dark Lord's shoulder, his arms around His neck. "S'pose we can get back to it now."

"Indeed." Voldemort turned in a sweep of black fabric and made his way out of the room. "Walden, bring 'Rodolphus' to the dungeon and Reenervate everyone when he is secured."

"Y-yes, my lord," Macnair croaked, falling into a deep bow.

He hastened to float not-Rodolphus out of the room, casting a last glance about the scene. If the Dark- if  _ Potter _ had used a more debilitating spell than a Stunner, and the impostor had acted faster... Walden didn't want to imagine what that could have been.

The door closed on seven unconscious Death Eaters slumped over the furniture and across the floor; the lights went out, now that the room was empty, and a dense silence fell. It was interrupted by the slithering of scales over stone as Nagini uncoiled from under the table, rising up to survey the space. She proceeded to the hidden snake passageway behind the throne which led out of the room and, from there, onto the Manor grounds.

Peacocks shrieked and fled in the face of her bulk, and for once, she ignored them, moving faster than usual in a direct path to the hilltop that marked the edge of the wards.

A ripple of magic started at the snake’s tail as she made it across, slipping over the top of the hill to tumble down the grass with two arms and two legs, catching sticks and leaves in her bushy hair.

“Oh my god,” gasped Hermione Granger at the bottom of the hill, “what the hell,” she turned on her heel and Disapparated, staggering upright in the small park outside Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. “Why-”

What the hell-

_ “I can’t believe you guys,” Harry frowned down at her and Ron in an oversized black bathrobe from the top of the main staircase. “I thought we were going to sneak in  _ **_after_ ** _ the hols!” _

_ The other two-thirds of the Golden Trio were just gaping at their friend, gobsmacked. “This just makes everything more difficult,” Harry went on, drawing his wand from his sleeve. “So help me, stay still so I can spell it better, or this is going to get really messy really fast.” _

_ “What are  _ **_you_ ** _ doing here, though,” Hermione hissed, frantic, just as two Death Eaters dashed into the entrance hall - the Lestrange brothers - and aimed their wands at all three of them. Harry didn’t answer; he Stunned both brothers, who crumpled into a heap on the floor. “Get Rodolphus’ hair for Polyjuice,” he told Ron, “and be quick about it.” _

_ Hermione wanted to press him for questions, but she was very suddenly a large snake, and Harry was sending her a sharp look. “That’ll last as long as Rodolphus’ Polyjuice,” he hissed - in Parseltongue, she realized from the sibilant accent, then levitated the real, disrobed Rodolphus into a corner and applied a Disillusionment. _

_ He turned his wand on Rabastan: “Reenervate.” The man blinked awake with a confused groan. “Obliviate,” Harry murmured; Rabastan’s eyes went unfocused. “You and Rodolphus were summoned to the dining room after the wards chimed for an intruder. You didn’t see anyone else in the entrance hall on your way.” _

_ The man blinked a few times, nodding. Harry gestured to Ron to follow Rabastan, then aimed his wand at the dazed Death Eater’s back and breathed, “Imperio.” _

_ Hermione would have gasped, but she lacked the anatomy - she could shiver, though, when Harry turned to look at her. “Not a word,” he hissed. “I am covering for  _ **_your_ ** _ mistakes.” _

_ As she watched, he rolled up his robe’s left sleeve - and pressed the tip of his wand to the Dark Mark that spread like a pestilence on his skin. If Hermione could, she’d have thrown up, but she didn’t know how that worked as a snake. “C’mon, follow me,” Harry addressed her in Parseltongue. “This’ll be good.” _

_ Then he was turning his wand upon himself, hissing spells in Parseltongue, and Hermione shuddered again as her friend’s body sprouted Voldemort’s terrible features. He re-tied the bathrobe,  _ **_now that it fit_ ** _ , and led the way to the aforementioned dining room, taking the throne at the far end as though it belonged to him, and she hid underneath the table as other people entered the room- _

_ “Death Eaters, I presume you have all felt the disturbance in the wards in the past ten minutes…” _

**Author's Note:**

> So begins the October posting series for 2020. ♥


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